Emotions
by GirlInTheMirror121
Summary: Regret. Sorrow. Anger. Heartbreak. Grief. Quick oneshot of the boys' and girls' reactions/thoughts in the aftermath of Moritz's suicide and at his funeral. Reviews/feedback more than welcome. "And it whistles through the ghosts still left behind..."


__**Disclaimer: I don't own Spring Awakening.  
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**Note: So it's basically a drabble/oneshot, but I got to wondering how the boys and girls heard about Moritz's death and their inner thoughts/reactions at his funeral. Obviously musical-world because of Anna being in here. Again, I was recently involved in a production of Spring Awakening at my college and this scene was so heart-wrenching, I can't even tell you (especially considering our understudy Moritz was this really sweet girl, she made me sob during her final monologue!). Reviews/feedback more than welcome.  
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_They all couldn't believe the news when they heard._

It was Ilse who ran up to her old friend Martha's house. "Moritz Stiefel is dead," she said, her cheeks tearstained and her hair rumpled, still wearing Gustav Baum's shirt.

It felt like her world was ending. Martha collapsed into Ilse's arms as they both cried together, Ilse bearing the guilt of being the last person to see him alive, and Martha bearing the grief of the only girl who cared for him, her secret love.

Anna was the next to hear, Martha telling her quietly at school the next day through her tears, which seemed to not have ceased to flow. Wendla and Thea gasped when Anna, in turn, told them. How could this be so? Wendla pressed a hand to her stomach; she felt ill. Ill with grief? She wondered. After all, she had once played with Moritz when they were children. Ill with love for Melchior? Ill with the knowledge of the deed they had done?

The boys were told by their headmaster that morning as well. Ernst suppressed a sob; although he hadn't known him too well, he and Moritz had been the same age, and Ernst was sort of fond of him. Hanschen stared straight ahead; he must not betray his emotions (or show that, deep down inside, he really did care for his classmate). Otto and Georg sniffled, but again, did not betray their emotions that day.

Melchior screamed in rage upon hearing the news, howling in pain and grief, kicking the chair in front of him and storming out of the room in a whirl of emotions. His best friend, dead? Oh, how he should've listened when Wendla told him that Moritz had been absent from the Michaelmas festivities! He began to panic; was it his essay that had driven Moritz to the brink? He knew that Moritz had passed the middle-term exams, so what else could have gone wrong? Unless there was something that Moritz hadn't told him…

They numbly went to the funeral a few days later. It was raining, seeming to fit the mood, and Melchior right away noticed the lack of a priest or parishioner. He scoffed; of course. He'd heard from Ilse that Moritz had been found with a gun in his hand, and he knew that the Church frowned upon suicide; it was a mortal sin. Of course there wouldn't be a member of the clergy to preside over Moritz's funeral. He absent-mindedly picked a flower from the ground as he watched his friends approach the grave, one by one.

His mother, angry with herself that she had ignored Moritz's desperate plea in the letter he had sent to her.

Thea, mournful and regretful that she had mocked Moritz.

Anna, not understanding how someone could be so sad as to take their own life.

Martha, heartbroken that she had lost her secret crush, and that she had never told him how she really felt. If she had, she thought through her sobs, could she have been his chance of salvation, of love? If she had shown that she cared, would she have stood a chance at receiving his love in return? Could she have been the one?

Otto, Moritz's second-best friend, trying not to cry but letting a tear slip anyway.

Georg, another good friend, hanging his head in sorrow, wishing this wasn't happening.

Hanschen, who had once bullied Moritz, but now reflecting on his actions, all the while playing it off like everything was okay, that they were going to move on with their lives.

Ernst, like Anna, not understanding how someone could succumb to such sadness that it would drive them to their grave, afraid of the ghosts that might haunt them all.

Wendla, the childhood friend, sad that she hadn't kept in touch with him after they had been separated at school, fondly remembering the times they would play Pirates in Ilse's backyard with her and Melchior. She again pressed a hand to her stomach, still feeling ill, but chalking it up to standing in the rain for so long, not to mention being at an old friend's funeral…and so young, she couldn't help but to think…and so young…

Ilse, the most regretful, the one to see him alive last. The one who had, at a distance, heard the gunshot and come running back to see if he was okay. The one who found him, hand still curled around the gun, and oh, so much blood, blood everywhere…Ilse, the one who had asked him to go home with her, who had yelled at him when he refused to go. Who should've known by the way he was fumbling with something in his pocket that something was up. Who had maybe felt an attraction to him, an attraction which might have been mutual, if only she had stayed for a few more minutes.

And finally, Moritz's father. Melchior glared at him with disdain and contempt. He had heard from eavesdropping near the headmaster's office that Moritz had been purposely failed to keep the school's reputation sparkling, and he knew how Herr Stiefel was when it came to academics. There was no doubt in Melchior's mind now that Moritz's father was the one who ultimately pushed him too far, who caused him to do this unspeakable and yes unthinkable act. He again glanced around the cemetery at his friends; at the boys huddled on one side and the girls on another. He noticed that the girls clung to each other, crying openly, while the boys distanced themselves from one another and hid their tears. He shook his head; why couldn't men show their emotions in public without it being cited as a weakness? He walked forward and dropped the flower in Moritz's grave on top of the wooden coffin. His hands trembled, knowing his best friend was in there, and only at age fourteen; he felt like he was about to puke. He had to turn away before he lost it entirely. He wanted to talk to Wendla, he did, for he still thought about what transpired between them in the hayloft, but by the time he tore his eyes away from the grave, she had vanished, like a ghost.

Little did he know, he'd soon be haunted by several ghosts.

Indeed, they all would be, for a long time.


End file.
